


a muppet's christmas carol

by butteredsc0tch



Category: A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens, Emmerdale
Genre: Ghosts, I'm so sorry, M/M, Supernatural Elements, drunk!robert, i couldn't help myself haha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 20:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butteredsc0tch/pseuds/butteredsc0tch
Summary: “This weren’t my idea,” Aaron says, his tone massively put upon and a frown settling at his brow. “This isyourfault Robert, and ya need to listen.”Robert squints at him in confusion and shakes his head. “What you talkin’ about? What’s my fault? What’ve I done now?”“Same as always.” Aaron sighs again, this time rubbing at his forehead and dropping his arms down by his sides. “Actin’ like a muppet again ‘cause you never learn.”





	a muppet's christmas carol

**Author's Note:**

> I just, idek haha. \o/ But pretty much ever since I heard that the Christmas episode was going to be based around A Christmas Carol, I haven't been able to get the title of this fic out of my head, so when I got snowed in last week I thought I'd give it a bash. I wasn't sure if I could get it finished before the episode but luckily I had some free time today so I ploughed on through. It's short and probably not all that great (and will more than likely suck compared to the _actual_ episode) but what the hell, it's Christmas Eve, so hopefully you'll enjoy!

He’s drunk. Very, very drunk.

It’s the only reason why he’d be wandering down a narrow country lane, in the dark, on Christmas Eve, bottle of whiskey in hand and snow falling fast and heavy into his face. It’s stupid, his sober brain knows, but as his feet skid along on the ice, his intoxicated brain could care less, taking deep swigs from the bottle with every other step.

The snow is bad and it’s only getting worse, blurring his vision even more than the half a bottle of whiskey running through his blood. It’s for this reason that he doesn’t notice the tree root until it’s too late, curling up from the ground and gnarly like a withered hand. He stumbles, the root taking hold of the hem of his sodden jeans, and before he can do anything about it he’s falling. Falling and falling into the mud trench at the side of the road. He hears the muffled sound of the whiskey bottle smashing, a soft tinkle of glass on snow, and he blacks out just as he hits the ground.

*****

The first thing he notes when he wakes is that it’s still snowing, the cold wetness pelting his face making him wince and shiver as it melts on his skin. The second thing he realises, is that he’s lying in what feels like a slick of mud and it’s still dark outside.

He groans and rolls over, swallowing back a wave of nausea as his head throbs in his temple. He blinks up blearily, trying to focus his eyes against the falling snow and pitch black of the night sky, when he catches sight of a figure peering at him from the side of the trench. He rubs at his face, smearing away the mud and slush and feels himself startle when he recognises Aaron’s surly face staring back at him.

“Aaron? S’that you?” He slurs out, pushing himself up on his palms, his fingers squelching as the mud seeps over the back of his hand. He sees Aaron roll his eyes and hears him sigh in that familiar tone.

“What does it look like?” Aaron says, gesturing to himself; it’s only then when Robert follows the movement of hand over his chest that he realises that Aaron doesn’t look _right_ , that his hair is too styled and strangely at that, and his clothes, well his _clothes_ \- 

“Why d’you look like you just stepped out of a Dickens novel?” He says before he can stop himself, blinking at Aaron’s dark waistcoat and tightly - and very tightly at that - tailored trousers. “I saw ya, an hour ago with _him_ , and you _definitely_ weren’t wearing that. I’d remember. I know I’m drunk, but m’not _that_ drunk.”

Aaron sighs and folds his arms over his chest, the material of his shirt pulling tight across the curve of his biceps and making Robert swallow. 

“This weren’t my idea,” Aaron says, his tone massively put upon and a frown settling at his brow. “This is _your_ fault Robert, and ya need to listen.”

Robert squints at him in confusion and shakes his head. “What you talkin’ about? What’s my fault? What’ve I done now?”

“Same as always.” Aaron sighs again, this time rubbing at his forehead and dropping his arms down by his sides. “Actin’ like a muppet again ‘cause you never learn.”

There’s a soft chime from Aaron’s pocket, a small metallic sound, and Aaron pulls out a pocket watch from the breast of his waistcoat. Robert’s eyes boggle as Aaron flips open the watch and his jaw tenses, exhaling heavily through his nose as he snaps the watch closed. 

“I gotta go,” Aaron says, tucking the watch away and looking back down into the trench. “They’re comin’ and they’ll get pissed if I stay too long.”

Robert frowns, puzzled, and tries to shove himself up higher, but his hands slip in the mud and he slides back down as Aaron turns away.

“Aaron!” He shouts, almost desperate as Aaron’s figure begins to fade. “Aaron wait! _Please!_ You need to help me!”

“I am.” Aaron’s voice says, thin and reedy as his figure grows darker and darker. “Listen to ‘em Robert. The first one’ll be here at 1.”

“Who Aaron?! Listen to _who_?!” He yells, voice breaking as his teeth begin to chatter furiously; but Aaron doesn’t answer, his body disappeared into the shadows. Robert’s vision lurches as his temple bangs again, and he slumps back into the mud as he succumbs once again to the darkness.

*****

His phone ringing loudly in his jeans pocket is what jolts him back into consciousness.

It buzzes, obnoxiously chiming away its cheery ringtone, and he moans as he scrambles for it with frozen hands, stabbing at the cancel button and lying back in the mud with a groan.

He peers up at the screen from under shuttered lids and his brow furrows when he sees no missed call. He swipes open the lock screen and a shock runs through him when he notes the time. 01:00; just like Aaron had – 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

He jumps up at the voice, limbs scrabbling in the mud as his heart hammers in his chest. He looks around desperately, half panicked as he searches for the owner of the voice. An owner that can’t possibly _be there_.

“I’m over here Robert,” the voice says dryly, unimpressed, from his right. He turns sharply and gasps, breathing heavily as she stands there, bright white in her wedding dress against inky black. _Katie_. 

“You’re – you’re dead.” He chokes out, his stomach turning sickly as he stares at her wide eyed. The memories of the last time he saw her, pale and lifeless, flashing through the back of his head.

“Obviously.” Katie answers flatly, folding her arms across her waist and straightening her shoulders. “We were both there when it happened after all.”

“I’m sorry.” He rushes out, breath laboured and shaking. “I’m so _sorry_ , I never, _ever_ meant – ”

“Yeah well it doesn’t matter now does it?” She cuts him off, tone cold and harsh as she looks away into the far distance, the snow skimming off her face and hair as if it can’t touch her. “I’m dead and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

Robert swallows and nods, looking away from her and rubbing anxiously at his mud drenched thighs. He hears a ruffle of material, the swish of taffeta and net, by his side and he turns back towards her, seeing her closer than before.

“Are you just going to sit there? They’ve only given me an hour, I said it wouldn’t be long enough for you – I mean 10 years wouldn’t be long enough for you with your history – but while I’m here, I might as well try.”

He squints in confusion and shakes his head. “What you on about? Given you an hour to do what?”

Katie sighs exasperatedly and rolls her eyes. “Didn’t he tell you? Aaron?”

“Did Aaron tell me what?” Robert snaps, beginning to get annoyed with all the talking in riddles. The mud and snow has left him soaked to the bone and he can feel his fingers and toes beginning to pulse with the cold. “Look I’ve had enough now. Whatever _this_ is, I’m not interested!”

Katie sneers and shakes her head, her dress swishing as she leans over into the trench. “Why does that not surprise me? You never change Robert, and it’ll leave you bitter and alone.”

She straightens up and turns to move away, her dress floating almost as she walks; Robert feels a well of panic build up in him at the prospect of being left alone at the side of the road all over again.

“Katie! Wait! Please!” He shouts, pushing himself up to his knees with difficultly, before slipping back into the mud again. “ _Katie_! I’m _sorry_! Just please _help me_!”

He hears the pure desperation in his voice himself, and he tries not to wince at just how desperate he sounds, knowing that Katie will leave him here now just to hear him beg, but instead of her retreating figure she turns back around and looks at him with pity.

“What happened to you Robert?” She asks quietly, and he knows from her tone she doesn’t just mean how he ended up stuck in a trench on Christmas Eve. “How did you end up like this?”

“You should know.” He snaps back, defensive and prickly. “Your husband was to blame for most of it.”

She rolls her eyes again but steps forward to his relief, bending over the trench and holding out her hand.

“Touch my hand and you’ll be out of there.”

He looks at her sceptically, one brow raised in disbelief that _Katie_ would be able to pull him out of a hole this deep by herself, but the fact that Katie is even here _at all_ is ridiculous enough that he goes with it, reaches out to touch her fingers with one hand. 

He feels a horrific lurch in his stomach the second their fingers touch, her’s cold and almost glass like, and his vision swims. He closes his eyes against the sensation, squeezes them tight, and then he’s falling all over again, the air swirling around him until he hits the floor with a thump.

“Fuck.” He groans, pressing his face against the ground. Instead of mud he feels grass, slightly damp but nothing like previously. He slowly opens his eyes and blinks, taking in the muted green of the grass and what appears to be daylight creeping around the edge of his line of sight. He pushes himself up onto his knees and stares stunned at the sight before him.

“What – how – how did we end up _here_? And that’s _dad’s_ car, from the 90’s! What the _fuck_?!

“I brought you here,” Katie’s voice says, and he sees her step up beside him from the corner of his eye, her dress gently waving in the soft breeze. “It’s what I’m here for.”

He climbs unsteadily to his feet, brushing himself down and frowning in surprise when he finds his clothes bone dry once again. “What? You’re here to bring me here to look at the old farm? Seems a bit pointless.”

Katie purses her lips and glares at him, turning on her heel and heading for the front door. 

“Follow me Robert! If you don’t you’ll just end up back in that hole again!”

He sighs but does as asked, eyes widening slightly when instead of knocking at the door, Katie simply floats on through. He jogs to catch up with her, and when he reaches for the knocker finds his hand going straight through the wood also.

“Sorry, forgot to mention that.” Katie smirks when he appears beside her, looking down her shoulder at him. He pulls a face at her when she turns away, and once he’s gotten over the shock of being able to walk through walls, turns his eyes in the direction she’s looking in, swallowing heavily at the sight that greets him.

“Mum?” He whispers, voice cracking as he feels a mix of emotions swirl up inside of him; happiness, sadness, sheer _relief_. “Mum, you’re _alive_ you’re – ”

His hand slips right on through her shoulder as he reaches out instinctively for her, and he feels a crush of hurt in his chest as she continues to move around the kitchen none the wiser, grabbing baking trays from the cupboard and lining the stove with saucepans of water.

“Have you ever heard the expression ‘look don’t touch’?” Katie asks snippily, but when Robert turns back to look at her he can see the subdued expression on her face, the look of pity again that makes him swallow and turn away.

“Why am I here?” He asks, watching his mum intently as she continues to work at the stove, tipping a chopping board of carrots into one pan. 

“It’s Christmas Day,” Katie says, stepping up beside him and folding her arms. “Where else would you be but at home on Christmas?”

He shakes his head in mild annoyance but doesn’t look at her, wanting to drink in as much of his mum again before she disappears for good.

“You know what I mean.” He replies flatly. Katie sighs at his side, but before she can reply a small, blonde haired boy rushes into the room, running straight for Sarah and wrapping his arms around her legs tight.

“Mummy, mummy, it’s _Christmas_!”

It feels a bit like a kick in the chest strangely, seeing himself. It’s bizarre, looking in on a scene that now that he thinks back, remembers being a part of despite the dust and cobwebs clinging to edges of the memory. He’d gotten a Gameboy that Christmas, could remember being sat under the tree after dinner, messing with the buttons and trying to figure out how to play Super Mario. It’d been a good one in that childlike way of getting great presents, but now looking in he wished he could remember more of it, could remember how it felt to feel his mum stroking his hair, how it’d felt to hear her voice humming along to the radio as she’d prepared the potatoes for roasting.

“I miss her,” he says softly, trying to hold back the tears he can feel threatening the corners of his eyes, as he watches her laugh at some stupid story his childhood self is telling her. She bends down and places a kiss to his cheek, nudging him gently under the chin as she smiles widely at him, and he wipes furiously at his eyes, exhaling heavily.

“We need to go,” Katie says carefully, and he stiffens, jaw flexing in irritation.

“Why?” He asks back hard, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on himself and his mum. He feels Katie step closer and almost jumps when he feels her cold hand touch his arm.

“Because time’s running out, and there’s still things you need to see.”

He shifts his feet, folding his arms around himself and standing his ground. “And what if I don’t want to leave? This is about me right? So I should get to choose.”

Katie exhales tiredly and he sees her take a step back again, moving towards where he knows the door is. “If you got your way Robert then there would be no point to this. Besides while I’m here, you go where I go. You don’t have a choice.”

He feels the tug begin to build again in the pit of his stomach, and he turns towards her, breathing hard as he stares at her pleadingly. 

“Please Katie, just a bit longer! I’ll go okay, go wherever you want, just give me a bit longer!”

She shakes her head sadly and steps closer still to the door. “I can’t Robert, we’re running out of time.”

And with that she steps through the door, yanking Robert through it too and out into somewhere much more recent.

“The Woolpack.” He pants, glaring up at the sign decorated in fairy lights, half bent over as his stomach rolls in protest at the jump. “You dragged me away to come to _The Woolpack_.”

“I didn’t bring you here just to look at the pub.” She answers coolly, turning away from him and looking down the street. “We have somewhere we need to be.”

And with that she stalks away, Robert trailing behind her and sulking. She stops when they reach the church, and he frowns curiously when she steps through the door, him left with no choice but to follow. 

“We are gathered here today…” Ashley’s voice begins loudly, and he feels sick when he looks down the centre of the isle, seeing Katie – an _alive and well_ Katie – stood opposite his brother with a beaming smile on her face. He glances at the Katie beside him, pale and sombre looking, and shuffles awkwardly, suddenly wishing that he was anywhere but stood at her side.

“Uncomfortable, are you?” She whispers bitingly. “I mean I have to hand it to you really Robert, not only did you manage to ruin my wedding day, but you also managed to wreck my last Christmas too.”

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs in reply, earnest as he glances between her and the scene that is beginning to kick off at the altar. “Honestly I never meant for that to happen, I was just angry at the time. I’d had a few to drink and I’d forgotten I’d even done it, you have to know that?”

Katie shrugs and holds her elbows, her gaze fixed firmly on her living self shouting at Robert’s younger self, Andy trying to calm her with a steadying touch. “Like I said it doesn’t matter now. We can’t change the past, as much as we’d like to.”

He nods small and fragile and folds his arms around his waist, winces as Katie shouts at him to get out and Chrissie pushes at his arm, steering him past the two of them towards the exit like a scolded child. He looks back down the aisle as the door shuts with a bang, sees Andy and Katie gathering themselves and Ashley talking to them in hushed tones. He drags his gaze away, feeling a pang of guilt tightening at his chest for his previous actions, and freezes when he meets a pair of blue eyes across the room almost staring straight at him. 

“Aaron.” He breathes softly, butterflies fluttering in his belly as he runs his eyes over him, takes in that blue suit that had fitted him so well, the clean white shirt and tie that had had him hot under the collar for days after, he swallows heavily, and he hears Katie huff pointedly.

“Honestly, how you ever got away with it for so long…” She trails off, shaking her head and turning away from the scene, herself and Andy kissing as the congregation cheers. “Come on, we have a reception to get to.”

She snaps her fingers and Robert stumbles a little as he finds himself back outside The Woolpack, the light slightly dimmer than it had been previously.

“Seriously.” He snaps, straightening himself up again and glaring at her as she holds back a smirk. “If you can do it like that then why d’you keep trying to make me throw up every time you take me somewhere?”

Katie shrugs and begins to walk around to the side of the pub. “Sometimes it’s just more fun to watch you suffer.”

He sighs exasperated and follows her, halting abruptly when he sees himself once more, dressed in the maroon suit from the church and walking beside Aaron, hands buried in trousers pockets with a soft smile on his own face. It hits him hard like a punch in the stomach, the way his younger self looks; the warmth he’d felt at Aaron not giving up on him when everyone else that day had, visible in his expression for the world to see. He follows them both with his eyes as they pass by him, wandering with their arms bumping every now and again and talking with ease.

“He’s a good lad Aaron,” Katie says absently as she moves up next to him, her arms folded over her chest. “Which makes me question what he ever saw in you.”

He swallows and shuffles on his feet, feels the sting of truth as the two of them stop a small distance away, turning towards each other and swaying on their toes in a way so in sync that Robert hadn’t noticed at the time, too caught up in Aaron’s almost teasing words and the blue of his eyes.

“I don’t know.” He answers heavily, his younger self toying his lower lip with his teeth, and Robert is fully aware of what comes next. “I hurt him. So many times.”

“You did.” Katie replies, so matter of fact that he winces. “The supposed love of your life, but in the end even _he_ wasn’t enough.”

“It wasn’t like that.” He snaps, turning to glare at her and wrapping his arms around his waist. “Aaron – no one comes close to him. _No one_. Not even you did.”

“Didn’t stop you though,” she says flatly, and Robert sighs, feeling a stab of shame and guilt and disappointment in himself as he rubs at his face. He knows she’s right, even loving Aaron, as much and as wholeheartedly as he does, couldn’t stop him from heading straight off the rails and ruining the best thing he’s ever had, couldn’t stop him from hurting him like he promised he never would. 

There’s a distant echo of a bell ringing, it loud and unnatural sounding. Katie hums from beside him and Robert snaps his attention to her sharply.

“Our time’s up,” she says matter of factly, and Robert’s stomach sinks, fully aware of the couple still in the corner of his eye, them heading towards The Woolpack side door with content smiles on their faces. He wants to stay, wants to follow them through; he knows what happens next, had spent days replaying the hurried kiss in the hallway, the evening later on spent in the back of Robert’s Audi, languid kisses and Aaron half naked in a dress shirt across his thighs.

“Please, just a bit longer.” He begs, looking at them quickly, the sound of the door closing behind them. “Please Katie!”

She smiles at him sadly and shakes her head. “I’m sorry Robert, it’s not my choice.”

The world around him blurs slightly and he feels that same sickening sensation in the pit of his stomach. He lurches forward and The Woolpack all but melts in front of him, Katie’s dress blowing around him like smoke, her face glowing as she looks at him with bizarre expression of _hope_. He clumsily stumbles forward, trying to reach for her, but then the world tilts sharply and suddenly it all turns black once more.

*****

His phone rings again and he groans as he jumps awake, blinking the snow from his lashes and rubbing at his face.

He’s back in the trench again to his dismay, only this time he’s propped up against the side instead of laying down in the dirt. His phone finally stops its shrieking and he pulls it out of his pocket, 02:00 is the time that glares up at him from the screen and he sighs, dropping his head back against the trench wall.

“Fuck’s sake, what mental hallucination is it gonna be this time.”

“Oi!” A loud, heavily accented voice says from above him, and he whips his head around to look up at the owner, startled. “Is that any way to talk about your favourite Auntie?”

“Val?!” He squints, baffled as he catches sight of her, sitting on a fallen tree, wrapped up in a ridiculous fur coat and smoking a cigarette through a 1920’s red holder. “What are _you_ doin’ here?!”

“Same as the others pet,” she says, exhaling a stream of smoke through her nose and smirking. “Here to show you the error of your ways.”

He huffs and shakes his head. “And how you gonna do that aye? Take me back and make me sit though more Christmas’ from my childhood? Show me how much of a good little boy I was until I fucked it all up?”

“Nope,” Val says, knocking off the end of her cigarette and taking another drag. She pushes herself up to stand from the log and brushes her coat down, a wicked grin on her face. “You should know by now pet I’m not one to linger on the past. It’s Christmas Day, time to party!”

And with that she bends down, grabbing at his shoulder and _yanking_ him up with a strength she should not possess. He scrabbles at the dirt, half terrified and slams his eyes shut as he feels a swooping sensation run through him again, only opening them back up when he feels his feet stumble on the ground. 

He’s back in Emmerdale and there’s a fresh layer of snow covering the ground. It’s early morning by the looks of it, the snow undisturbed and curtains still covering the windows. The decorations on the front of the pub are the same ones as they were when he’d left last night, and Bob’s café still has a sign in the window proclaiming ‘Happy Christmas 2017!’. He turns to his left to look at Val, and raises a questioning eyebrow at her. 

“It’s Christmas morning, got a few places to visit,” she says, pulling out a gilded gold lighter from somewhere and lighting a new cigarette, winking at him as she drifts across the road, her coat dragging in the snow but the fur not seemingly wet. He follows her, around the side of the pub and towards the B&B, stepping through the door after her as she disappears through it.

There’s commotion already inside the B&B, Diane running about with handfuls of cutlery and red cloth napkins. He watches as she sets out everything on the tables, ready for the Christmas lunch he knows they’ll be putting on later.

“Always was a hard worker our Diane,” Val says, crossing her arms around her waist and taking a drag. Doug and Eric enter through the kitchen door bickering at each other and he sees Val shift from foot to foot, her face wavering slightly.

There’s a loud knock at the door suddenly and they all turn towards it, Diane dropping the leftover knives and forks and rushing over to answer it. Vic is stood on the other side, buried down in a puffy jacket and a weak smile on her face.

“Merry Christmas,” he hears her say, embracing Diane and stepping inside. She looks tired and worn down, and Robert feels guilty for making such a state of himself last night when she has enough on her plate.

“It’s gonna be a hard one for her this year.” Val pipes up, nodding towards Vic. “Adam Barton, always knew he was a baddun.”

“Robert not with you?” He hears Diane ask, and looks at them both curiously. Vic sighs and shakes her head, rubbing at her eyes as she wraps her arms around her waist.

“Left him in bed, he’s a right state Diane. Shoutin’ and all sorts, and throwin’ stuff when he finally got in last night, I’ve had it up to here already,” she says, gesturing above her head pointedly. Robert frowns and shakes his head, looking towards Val who just raises her eyebrow. 

“I wouldn’t do that.” He protests, furrowing his brow when Val just _looks_ at him. “Alright I was drunk, but I wouldn’t be like that!”

“Whatever you say pet,” Val says placatingly, but Robert can detect the sarcasm behind her tone. 

“Oh well.” Diane sighs, looking disappointed with him without her even being able to see him. “Best leave him to sleep it off, he’s no use in that sort of mood. But come on through pet, I’ll get you a glass of bubbly, sound like you could do with it!”

Robert watches them go through to the kitchen with the frown still firmly on his brow. He hears the flick of a lighter to his side and he turns back to look at Val, her thumbing the lighter back closed and inhaling deeply.

“Well would ya look at the time,” she says nodding towards the grandfather clock stood against the wall – the time showing an impossible 20 past 2 – and breathing out a plume of smoke. “We’ve got someplace else we need to be, if we don’t leave now we’ll miss dinner and we can’t have that.”

She snaps her fingers and Robert blinks, looking around in confusion when he finds himself no longer in the B&B dining room, and instead standing in the middle of Wishing Well cottage. 

There’s an array of Dingles already there, all supping away at cans as cheesy music blares away in the background; Lisa running around the kitchen like a headless chicken, steam and bubbles overflowing from the various pots on the stove. He notes a large homemade Christmas pudding sitting under a plastic dome and hears his stomach growl, the memory of the taste of it feeling thick on his tongue.

“Lisa’s Christmas pudding,” he says, turning to Val and pointing towards it with a smile. “Best thing I think I’ve ever tasted.”

Val hums and nods her head, gesturing towards the door as the sound of it opening permeates through the music. “Shame he’ll be the one eating it this year instead then.”

Robert blinks in confusion and then feels his heart plummet when he sees Chas and Aaron enter, both grinning widely and Chas carrying a giant bag of presents. However it’s the figure that follows them in, with Liv and Gerry in tow, that really feels like a punch to the gut.

“He’s a good lookin’ fella, and smart too.” Val pipes up, smiling lopsidedly as she exhales through the side of her mouth. “If poor Finn was still around, God bless his soul, I’d be puttin’ a word in.”

“What’s _he_ doin’ here?” Robert bites out, his jaw clenching as his teeth grind, stomach turning unpleasantly as he watches them both strip out of their coats. The only bit of hope in the scene the bright red hoodie that Aaron is wearing, the one Robert had drunkenly shoved at him the previous night in the pub. Val makes a noise beside him and he looks at her quickly, not wanting to tear his eyes away from them both for too long.

“Well he _is_ Aaron’s boyfriend pet, it’s not too much of a stretch.”

The Dingles all begin to take their seats and Lisa, Chas and Marlon bring the food over to the table. Robert throws himself down on the sofa and folds his arms around himself, sulking as he watches Aaron and Alex sit side by side, grinning and _laughing_ and doing all the things him and Aaron did the year before. Pulling crackers, putting on those stupid paper hats, Aaron stealing a couple of pigs in blankets off of Liv’s plate. He feels Val sit down on the arm of the sofa beside him, and sighs annoyed.

“Why are we here?” He snaps, looking at her as she pushes a new cigarette into the end of her holder. She flicks open her lighter, cheeks hollowing as she breathes in, and sighs as she exhales.

“For the festivities,” she says, smiling brightly and gesturing around the room with her arms. “Thought you liked it here with them last year?”

“Yeah well that was _last year_.” He bites out. “Why would I wanna sit here watching _him_ slobberin’ all over _my_ husband. He’s like a dog in heat, it’s pathetic!”

Val snorts and smirks amused, tilting her head to the side as she looks at him and gesturing towards him with her cigarette. “Well we can’t always have what we want Robert, you of all should know that by now.”

He huffs and slumps back against the lumpy pillows, continues to watch as the group at the table get more and more drunk with every passing minute. Plates are eventually cleared away as they begin to disperse around the room once again. He sits up a little when he sees Aaron stand, smiling at Alex reassuringly when the man reaches for his arm, a confused expression on his face. Aaron bends down to say something in his ear and then pulls back, turning and heading through the front door. Robert stands abruptly and walks around the table, past Liv and Gerry, and Chas who has now dropped herself down into Aaron’s vacated seat. 

“You're sooooo good for him!” He hears her slur at Alex, eyes glazed as she pinches at the man’s cheek. “That – that _Robert_ he’s a waste o’space, but _you_ , your good for’im I already know.”

He scowls at her, fists clenching tight and storms through the door and outside, halting abruptly when he sees Aaron leaning against the fence, phone screen lighting up his face as snow begins to fall. He moves towards him slowly, swallowing thickly as he drinks him in, the soft curls laying against his forehead, the slight stubble sharpening his jawline and making Robert’s stomach flip. He looks gorgeous, the most stunning thing Robert has ever seen, even in the ridiculous red Santa hoodie swamping his frame.

“Rob,” Aaron says, and Robert startles, worried Aaron can actually see him even though he knows otherwise; but then he sees the phone pressed against his ear, and his stomach flips for a different reason entirely.

“It’s me.” He continues, and Robert holds his breath. “I erm – just wanted to see how you were doin’? After last night I mean, I know how ya get when you’ve had a few.”

Robert smiles softly, and inches closer, memories of the many times Aaron had tried to steer him to bed when drunk and how gentle he’d been with him, making him feel warm all over. He sees Aaron smile briefly too, before it drops again and he digs his toe into the ground. 

“I er – thanks, by the way, for the present. It’s definitely better than the one from last year.”

He smiles again and bites his lip, before Robert sees him sigh and rub at his eyes, shuffling awkwardly on the spot as he ducks his head.

“Look I guess I just wanna say Happy Christmas, you’re probably with Vic and Diane right now so yeah. I’ll erm, see ya around. And thanks, again.”

Aaron drops the phone down by his side, and Robert swallows around a lump in his throat as Aaron pushes himself up from the fence and heads back inside, his expression tight and weary. He stays there, stock still and breathes shakily as he feels Val move up beside him.

“Time to go pet,” she says gently and Robert weakly nods, closing his eyes tight as she touches his arm and the world goes black.

*****

He gasps when he next wakes, phone ringing again in his coat pocket. He pulls it out and stabs at the end call button, seeing 03:00 at the top of his screen. He sighs and rubs at his face, exhausted and cold beyond belief, and it’s only as he places his hands behind him automatically to lean on them, that he realises he’s sat on the edge of the trench, his legs dangling beneath him.

He grins and scrambles to his feet, feeling an undeniable sense of relief at being _free_ , out of the hole and able to head on home. He turns on his heel – attempting to brush some of the mud uselessly from his clothes – and jumps, almost tumbling back down the slope, when he sees a figure stood right in front of him, large and looming and draped in heavy, black folds of material.

“The fuck!” He hisses, clutching at his chest as his heart pounds away. The figure doesn’t move though and he exhales hard, straightening himself up as he licks nervously at his lip.

“Guess you’re the third one right?” He asks, trying to force a nonchalant laugh when the figure doesn’t respond in any form. “So bit of a quiet one aye?”

The figure twists slightly and lifts one arm, pointing into the distance. Robert looks over in the direction and swallows when he sees a swirling dark hole begin to form in the mist. The figure moves towards it and Robert licks at his lower lip with apprehension, taking a tentative step forward.

“Looks like we’re going through here then.” He mutters under his breath. The hole grows double in size as the figure steps through it, and Robert shivers at the swirling cold wind as he finds himself dragged right on through without little choice. 

When he’s thrown out the other side he’s inside The Mill to his surprise. It’s Christmas again by the looks of it, a large real pine tree stood proudly in the corner and decorated in gold and blue baubles and lights. It’s tasteful and sophisticated, and something he would most definitely have chosen for himself. 

He smiles as he looks around, not too much has changed since he’d last been there, and feels his heart stop when he looks at the fireplace, two cheesy red stockings pinned up at either end, one with a large letter ‘A’ and the other a letter ‘R’ embroidered in gold. He grins and steps forward, wanting to touch them but knowing he can’t, so instead he turns to look at the figure stood in the centre of the room, still as looming and dark as it had been at the side of the road.

“This has got to be Paddy’s idea right?” He asks the figure, but still not getting a response. “Either his or Liv’s.”

The figure remains silent, but moves across the room, it’s heavy cloaks dragging ratty on the floor. The doorbell buzzes from across the room and Robert hears footsteps thundering down the stairs, his heart skipping a beat when Aaron appears, dressed in dark charcoal suit trousers and a white shirt unbuttoned at the cuffs. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, revealing Vic stood there in a gorgeous burgundy dress, her hair plaited up in pretty braids. 

“I just came to give you this,” she says, handing Aaron a dark red rose boutonniere in a pale blue box. “Y’know I’m just so happy that yous two finally sorted it out.”

“Yeah, me too.” Aaron smiles, taking the box from her carefully. “How’re the kids?”

“The kids are fine.” Vic answers brightly, nodding her head and Robert can see Aaron sigh. “Just very excited to spend the night with Auntie Vic, but they’ve made it very clear that they’re very excited to see their daddies again later at the church for the wedding.”

Robert’s heart jolts and he inhales sharply, looking wide eyed and amazed at the figure still standing at the edge of the room. He feels a grin pulling at his mouth and he rubs disbelievingly at his chin.

“We’ve got kids?” He asks rhetorically, knowing by now not to expect an answer. “And we’re getting married? Legally this time?”

“Well tell ‘em daddy is excited to see them too.” Aaron smiles, and Robert smiles along with him. “And that they need to be good, or they ain’t gettin’ any cake later.”

“Will do.” Vic nods, and she steps forward, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s cheek and hugging him tight.

“You deserve this,” Robert hears her say softly, stepping back and rubbing at the sides of Aaron’s arms. “After everythin’ you’ve been through to get here, you deserve it, the both of you.”

Aaron nods and Robert can see his eyes shine even from his place by the fire, he watches them as they say ‘goodbye’, Aaron closing the door gently before heading back up the stairs. Once he’s gone from sight the figure moves across to the door silently, and Robert follows it out, taking one last glance around The Mill as he leaves. 

The figure leads him through the village and over towards the church, the sound of bells ringing gently floats along in the air, and Robert bites his lip with excitement. As they round the corner he sees a group stood outside the church, easily recognising Paddy and Rhona, Diane and Doug, Victoria, and _Andy_ too of all people. Cain and Moira, Zac, Lisa and Belle all huddle together nearby, chatting amongst themselves as they wait. Suddenly Chas appears from inside the church, half chasing a little dark haired boy, and an even smaller blonde haired girl, and huffing with her hands on her hips.

“Adam and Rosie, if you two don’t get back here _right this second_!”

Robert laughs and steps forward automatically, drawn to the little boy and girl all but running rings around Chas. He looks back at the figure, fully expecting it to be following him, but halts confused when instead the figure carries on down the path towards the graveyard, appearing as something like the grim reaper as it stands in amongst the sea of headstones.

He follows it, purely out of bewildered curiosity, and leaves the happy chatter of the group behind him. The figure walks past the older stones, moss covered and mottled with dirt, and over to a newer one, the grave clearly recently dug and the stone still polished and clean.

“I don’t get it, why are we here and not there?” He asks, moving closer and hitching a thumb over his shoulder, glancing back at the church as he sees Aaron arrive, his son and daughter all but knocking him over as they leap at his legs. “It’s my wedding day, and I’d like to actually be there.”

The figure stands still, haunting and all the more looming than before. It raises it’s arm again the same as earlier and points down at the headstone with purpose. Robert’s brow pulls down and he steps forward, his gut rolling sick and fearful at what he sees.

**Robert Sugden  
22nd April 1986 – 22nd February 2019**

“No,” he says, breathless and gasping as he recoils in horror, his heart all but pounding out of his chest as he turns to look back at the figure. “No! That’s – that’s _wrong_. I’m about to get _married_ , it’s happening over there, _right now_! Me and Aaron – ”

He twists around again as he speaks, pointing over at the church and he feels his stomach drop at Aaron stepping forward to kiss Alex, their friends and family all cheering and laughing as they throw confetti into the air. His mouth falls open and he steps back.

“You’re _wrong_!” He yells, tears blurring his eyes. “I’m not dead, I’m _not_! I – ”

He whips back around, needing answers desperately, and stumbles in shock when instead of the hooded faceless figure, he sees his father pulling back the hood of the cloak, his skin leathery and peeling away, hands bony and withered and looking like death himself. He gasps unable to breathe and feels his footing slip, his leg dropping out beneath him as he falls down, tumbling back into his own open grave.

*****

He yells as he wakes, limbs flailing wildly as he writhes about in panic. He feels hands trying to touch him and he flinches away trying to escape, he can smell damp earth and mud and he can feel himself begin to hyperventilate. It isn’t until he hears the familiar voice of Victoria shouting his name increasingly worriedly, that he snaps open his eyes, gasping for breath and looking around wildly.

“ _Robert_!” Victoria yells again, and he turns his head sharply to look at her. Her eyes are dark and ringed from a sleepless night and her nose and cheeks are both flushed from the cold, she’s on her knees in front of him, wet patches on the legs of her jeans as dew seeps into her clothes. “Robert what are you _doin’_ here?”

He blinks and glances around, the sky light and clear, birds singing in the trees. He sees the scattered gravestones around him and twists his head to the side, seeing his dad’s stone behind him, almost propping up his back.

“I – I don’t know…” He trails off, rubbing at his face as he notes the half drunk bottle of whiskey beside his leg. “I was – I was walkin’, down the road somewhere, and then it’s just – it’s _black_.”

Vic sighs and huffs as she pushes herself up to stand, she holds out her hand and Robert takes it tentatively, groaning as he pulls himself up.

“Come on, lets get you home,” she says tiredly, wrapping an arm around his waist. He closes his eyes as the world spins and rubs at his cheek, trying his hardest to remember how he ended up plastered beside his father’s grave, but all that flashes through his head are swirls of white netting, and cigarette smoke, large swathes of ripped black material and cloaked hoods that make him shiver.

“We’ve got to be at Diane’s for 2.” She continues, squeezing him carefully and Robert nods, a vague memory of Diane telling him in the pub the day before. “Hopefully by then you’ll be in a fit enough state to make it through to puddin’.”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, resting his head on her shoulder and groaning. “Sorry that I’m such a shit brother. That I’m just _shit_ full stop. I want to be better, I swear.”

Vic squeezes him again, rubbing at his waist and sighing, this time with an underlying fondness. 

“It’s fine.” She drawls, and Robert can almost her the smile on her face. “And today is a new day, you’ve still got plenty of time to turn it all around. I promise.”

And as they step back out onto Main Street he spots Aaron, trailing Liv and Gerry as they make their way up to the pub. Aaron turns his gaze their way just as Robert smiles, and Robert's chest swells when Aaron smiles back, a hint of bright Santa red just visible at the collar of his coat.


End file.
